“Mrs. Castle is vicious. Please just keep an eye out for her. I’d hate for you to get hurt by her nastiness.”
“I will. Mrs. Castle can’t hurt me.”
Kitty believed that with all her heart. Warren’s mother might be difficult to get along with, but there wasn’t anything she could do to Kitty without hurting her own son.
No, Kitty wasn’t worried about a thing.
* * *
Her nerves rattling, Kitty made her way to Castle House and its kitchen early the next morning, her checklist in hand. There were a number of things to see to before the party, and Kitty planned on finishing each and every one.
Sobbing met her ears as she stepped in the kitchen.
“Cook?”
The older woman sobbed into her apron. “Oh, miss. It’s just as I said. It’s ruined.”
A lump settled in Kitty’s stomach, but she forced her voice to remain calm. “What’s ruined?”
“Everything.”
The kitchen staff stood alongside the room, agreeing with Cook’s assessment.
“Ruined? How can that be? Everything looks in order.”
Sniffling, Cook fetched a fresh spoon, scooping out a sample of chicken salad. “Taste this.”
Accepting the spoon, Kitty settled the mixture in her mouth. Her eyes widened as she spit out the salty concoction. “Good heavens! What happened to it?”
Cook’s eyes filled yet again. “It’s as I said. It’s ruined. All of it.”
Kitty’s eyes flitted over the other bowls of fillings. “All of them? How can that be? Was there an accident?”
“I check them myself last night. When we pulled them out this morning and tested them, they were either too salty, too sweet, or some other variation. There’s only one way that could have happened.”
Kitty’s fist clenched. Cook didn’t need to say anymore. It was obvious what had happened.
Sabotage.
And only one person hated her enough to go to this length. With only a few hours to spare, remaking the fillings was out of the question. They had no food to serve the guests.
“What will we do?”
Kitty paced the kitchen. “What about the fruit? The tarts?” She had to ask, although she feared the answer.
“Same as the fillings.”
Kitty swallowed hard. “I’ll be back in ten minutes. Remove the ruined food and keep everyone on hand.”
Cook’s chin wobbled, but she quickly sprang into action as Kitty walked out the door.
She didn’t know where she was headed, but she needed the outdoors, the fresh air. Besides her brother, never in her whole life had anyone done something so cruel to her.
Kitty had underestimated the woman. She’d assumed Mrs. Castle would never hurt her own son, but she had. What kind of mother would do that? She had to know how much his business, their livelihood, counted on these parties.
Could she honestly be so vindictive?
If one filling had been ruined, even two, Kitty could rationalize that away. But not every single one. Not every item they’d planned on serving to their guests.
What was to be done?
She plucked a blossom from a bush, shredding its petals as she continued down the path.
Guests would arrive within a few short hours. She’d wanted everything to be perfect, for Warren’s party to succeed. But that wasn’t possible now.
The party would go on, and they needed to have food to serve Warren’s guests.
An idea lit her mind. It might not be traditional, but it certainly wasn’t unheard of. They’d offer sandwiches, but in a different way. Smoked meats, a variety of cheeses and breads. They’d be served with an array of cold salads, lemonade, and fried chicken. It was filling, tasty, and could be ready in time.
As she rushed back toward the house, plans firmly in her mind, she hoped they’d be ready on time.
* * *
Kitty pinched the fabric of her spotless white glove as she scrutinized the back lawn. “And the food and drinks are set up in the tent?” Kitty asked Cook for the tenth time.
The older, native Hawaiian woman belly-laughed. “Calm yourself. All is just as you asked. I didn’t think we’d make it in time, but you were right.”
Kitty smiled sheepishly. “Forgive me, Cook. Everything looks splendid. I’m just so nervous.”
“With good reason. However, everything looks perfect. No one will know about the last-minute changes.”
Kitty hoped not. But there were some people she wouldn’t be able to hide it from. She still had no clue what she would tell Warren. There wasn’t proof his mother sabotaged the food, but no one else had motive. Would he believe her? Would he care?
Of course he would. He knew his mother and her behavior. That’s why Kitty had a job.
And although it worked out in the end, the food was ready, looking as delectable as she’d hoped, but she was still nervous.
Warren had given her two weeks to settle in. If she failed today, the rest of Warren’s plans would as well. Everything had to be perfect. The food, the entertainment—the weather. She squinted at the puffy clouds dotting the sky.
Cook patted her on the back. “I’m going to the kitchens to make sure the rest is ready. You, don’t worry anymore.”
Kitty nodded as Cook left. Frozen on a small rise on the lawn, she looked over the idyllic event. Everything screamed of wealth, ease, luxury—without trying too hard. And that was key. Old society didn’t want garish displays of wealth. Nothing could be over the top, but it all had to be of the finest quality.
She was so nervous she wanted to vomit.
The time she’d spent as a girl, dreaming of being legitimate, of all the parties she’d go to, seemed like a waste now. Perhaps she wasn’t cut out for this. She’d embarrass Warren, ruin all of his plans.
Heavens. She fisted a hand at her stomach. Pull yourself together!
“This looks fantastic.”
Kitty jumped, slapping a palm against her chest. “Are you trying to kill me?”
Warren chuckled, and the sound warmed to her belly, pooling there like warm molasses.
“I didn’t realize I was so quiet. Forgive me.”
She rolled her eyes. They both knew she’d been too nervous to hear an elephant approach. “Are you sure it looks all right?”
“Everything looks wonderful.” His hand brushed against hers as they stood side by side, viewing all she’d accomplished.
Her heart leaped in her throat.
How could one touch, something so innocent as two hands meeting, unbalance her so? “Are you certain?”
A wry smile touched his lips. “Would you like me to find fault with something?”
“No. Of course not. I just wondered if you’d noticed the food.”
His eyes darted to the laden table. “Yes.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“You’re not upset?”
“Why would I be? It looks delicious. It’s a step away from the boring and traditional and will make us stand out. I’m pleased.”
She spluttered. “You’re not upset I changed it without consulting with you?”
“Kitty,” he whispered. “You have full control over planning. I trust your judgment in all things. I don’t need to manage every aspect of these events. You’re perfectly capable. What you choose to serve is fine by me.”
Her shoulders sagged. “I thought you’d be mad.”
“They were just sandwiches.” He scanned the crowd filtering into the green. “What made you change your mind?”
“Well…” How much should she tell him? She didn’t want to cause any problems, but his mother really had made a mess. Even though Kitty had managed to correct everything, it could’ve been disastrous. Mrs. Castle couldn’t be allowed to do such a thing again. “It wasn’t exactly my choice.”
His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
She blew out a long breath, still hesitating.
His finger curled under he
r chin, forcing her eyes to his. “What wasn’t your choice?”
She swallowed hard against the steel in his eyes. “The menu change.”
“You didn’t plan the fried chicken?”
“No. It isn't that. I did plan that… but only after the sandwich fillings and everything else were destroyed.”
The muscle in his jaw ticked, but he kept his voice light. “Destroyed? By whom?”
She jerked her eyes away, unwilling to see his reaction to what she had to say. “I don’t know for sure who did it. I only have guesses.”
“Then who do you think would do such a thing?”
She twisted her hands together. “Your mother.”
He cursed, his eyes narrowing on the woman in question. “I’m sorry.” His eyes returned to hers. “What did she do?”
Kitty swallowed. “She confronted me yesterday afternoon in the kitchen with Cook. She didn’t threaten anything, exactly. But she made it clear she didn’t want me here and that everyone would be better off, including myself, if I left. The food was sabotaged sometime during the night.”
His jaw clenched again. “I imagine it’s been stressful for you. I’m even more impressed with what you’ve done here today.”
His words humbled her. “Thank you.”
“I’ll make sure nothing like this happens again.”
“But how—”
“I’ll handle her.”
Kitty swallowed another question. She didn’t think he’d answer, and now wasn’t the best time anyway. They’d spent far too much time removed from their guests.
“Shall we?” He offered her his arm.
She sucked in a deep breath.
“They won’t bite.”
She chuckled, accepting his escort, but didn’t agree. High society ladies did bite. They sensed blood quicker than bloodhounds and moved in for the kill with stunning accuracy. If they smelled a whiff of insecurity, they went for the throat.
The key was to hold strong, project confidence, and keep a serene expression. Before she knew it, the party would be over, and she’d have cleared the first hurdle.
She hoped it was as easy as that.
Chapter Twelve
Warren seethed. Had his mother learned nothing in all her years dealing with him? She might’ve only meant to hurt Kitty, but her little stunt affected him as well.
If Kitty hadn’t been so competent, the whole party would’ve ended in disaster, hurting not only his reputation, but his mother’s as well. How could she not see that? Was she truly so spiteful she couldn’t see past her own petty selfishness?
Kitty’s fingers rubbed his arm in circles, distracting him from all unpleasant thoughts. Did she do it to soothe him, or was it a sign of her nervousness?
“Edward, Christine, it’s wonderful to see you both here today,” Warren said, nodding to the powerful couple lingering at the edge of the group before taking Edward’s hand in a firm shake.
Christine smiled politely. “Of course, Warren. Where else would we be? We’d never miss a chance to visit you here.” She eyed Kitty.
“I’m grateful for that.” He turned his attention to Kitty. “May I introduce my new assistant, Miss Catherine Jones? She’s the brains behind this whole event. Miss Jones, this is Edward and Christine Bishop. They’re longtime associates of mine.”
Christine’s eyes lit up. “My dear, let me just say, the buffet is absolutely brilliant. I’m so tired of all those little sandwiches served at these affairs. I’m sure others feel the same. You’ve quite impressed me.”
A smile curved Kitty’s lips. “Thank you. I hope you enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”
Christine looked between the two of them as if trying to figure something out. “I have no doubt we will, isn’t that so, Edward?”
“Indeed. Splendid affair. Very well done.”
Christine had selective taste. If she liked something, no doubt it would become a hit. And it looked as though she liked Kitty very much. “You two enjoy your afternoon. Miss Jones has many more people to meet,” Warren said.
“Of course,” Christine murmured with a smile. “Good luck.”
Kitty exhaled laboriously.
He bit back a grin. “Are you all right?”
Her free hand settled over her stomach. “I will be. Two down, dozens more.”
“They’re all like the Bishops. Perhaps a little stuffier here or there, but generally the same.”
“Good to know.”
Warren couldn’t have been more pleased. Kitty’s manners were impeccable. She put each guest at ease, whether requiring wit, politeness, or a stiff upper lip. Kitty read each person admirably, winning over people Warren thought disliked everyone.
He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Almost done.”
She shivered at his words, and his hand flexed from wanting to caress away the chill his words caused. Being around her and not touching her was torture.
A deep throat clearing intruded on the moment. “Afternoon, Warren.”
The hairs on the back of Warren’s neck stood on end, and he took a possessive step toward Kitty. “Simon, a pleasure as always.” The words were bitingly polite.
Kitty looked between the two men, but Warren refused to make eye contact with her. If he looked at her now, Simon would know how much Warren wanted her, and he wouldn’t give the philanderer a new target. No one was as attractive to Simon as a woman already taken. He didn’t care about any of the women he pursued. He only cared about the hunt, the challenge of wresting a lady away from someone else. He’d persevere until he got what he wanted. And then retreat.
Simon lifted his glass of lemonade. “I wanted to congratulate you on this success. Although,” he turned his attention to Kitty, “perhaps I should congratulate another?” He bowed his head. “Simon Winters,” he said, introducing himself.
“This is Kitty Jones,” Warren mumbled. “My social secretary.”
A glint entered Simon’s eyes. “Ah. Well then, I must congratulate you, Miss Jones. I can’t recall a picnic I’ve enjoyed more.”
“You’re too kind.” Her voice was soft, as if trying to decipher the undercurrents.
“Perhaps you wouldn’t mind joining me for a game of bowls, Miss Jones? I’ve been told I’m a formidable partner.”
“Oh, how kind. I—”
Warren forced Kitty’s hand into the crook of his arm. “Unfortunately, I need a word with Miss Jones. Perhaps another time.”
Warren yanked her away from Simon before she could protest.
She spluttered, her mouth opening and closing as he marched her around the side of the house to a secluded garden.
“Warren, release me at once.”
He growled, imagining her running back toward the gathering and falling right into Simon’s arms. He’d kill the man.
She tugged her hand, trying to free herself. “You’re crushing my fingers.”
He whirled on her, his hands pushing her shoulders into the house’s stone.
She gasped.
“I want you to stay away from him.”
Her eyes widened in bewilderment. “From Simon? Why? What’s the matter with you?”
He looked away and ground his teeth together, trying to bring his emotions under control. “Nothing is wrong. But I’m warning you away from Simon. He’ll take your virtue and then kiss you good-bye before you can blink.”
Her lips curved slightly, and his eyes locked on to the movement. “What is so funny?”
She pressed her lips together, forcing her smile away. “Not a thing. Except… are you jealous, Warren?”
Chagrin over her obvious pleasure hit him. “Damn it. Yes.” He raked a hand through his hair, easing his body from caging her. “A little.”
What was the matter with him? He’d acted completely insane. Just the thought of Kitty wanting someone else drove him crazy.
He needed more from her. Needed her to acknowledge that she was his, even if she wouldn’t marry him. Not having a commitment from her,
thinking of her with another, was more than he could handle. Never had he behaved so possessive and irrational before.
Her finger brushed his jaw, bringing his focus back on her. The soft touch of her fingertips gave him more pleasure than he would’ve thought possible. He craved her.
“You don’t need to be jealous,” she whispered. “Simon doesn’t interest me.”
His shoulders eased as relief pumped through him. He raised a cocky brow. “Is that so?”
She bit her lip, nodding. But his eyes locked onto her lips, his mouth watering. He knew what she tasted like, felt like in his arms. The urge to take her there again, here during their party on the side of the house, was overwhelming. “And who does interest you?” he asked, already seeing the desire in her eyes as she stared at him with equal hunger.
“Mr. Castle?”
He cursed, dropping his head in frustration at the interruption. He glanced up at Kitty’s blush-stained cheeks, but he refused to back away a respectable distance.
Without turning, Warren addressed his footman. “Yes, Robert?”
“I’m sorry to disturb you during the party, but there’s a man here, and he insists on seeing you.”
“Can’t you get rid of him?”
Robert shook his head, embarrassed.
“Bring him to the back terrace, and I’ll meet with him. But warn him I don’t have much time.” Of all the times to be pulled away.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” she whispered, although Robert had already left.
“No. I won’t be long. Will you be all right without me?” He smoothed a curl, caressing her neck with his palm.
“Of course. I’ll head back to the party and keep the guests occupied until you’re finished.”
Warren watched Kitty slip back around the house. A final curse left his lips at the untimely interruption.
Determined to get rid of whoever insisted on seeing him, he marched toward the back terrace. Whoever wanted to see him better have a damn good reason for the disruption.
Approaching a stout middle-aged man, Warren attempted to be polite. “What can I do for you?”
“Mr. Castle?”
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